


Same Love

by shelny18



Series: Compatibility [7]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barbara Wise, Coming Out, M/M, Relationship(s), Yes she now gets her own tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:49:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How and when Grantaire and Enjolras come out as gay to their parents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JJ](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=JJ).



> This is for JJ who requested it and even suggested a couple of ideas. :)

Taking a deep breath, Grantaire hesitated before entering the house, hovering by the back door as soon as he saw his mother. Barbara had flour up to her elbows and a streak across her forehead as she mixed together the scones, but she smiled warmly at her son when she heard him laughing.

"I'm gonna miss your baking when I move out," he sighed, stealing a bun from the cooling tray before skipping out of her way again.

"When you move out?" She raised one eyebrow at her son. "You've almost four years to go before that, and if you even think about taking any more buns before I've sorted how many I need for church there will be trouble young man." As she went back to her scones, Barbara glanced over at Grantaire, worried by the look of almost fear she saw in his eyes. "Grantaire, are you okay?" she asked softly. "You look terrified by something."

"Mum, I have something to tell you," he said slowly, staring at his hands as he started to pick the bun to pieces, taking a seat at the table as he did so. Barbara knew this was important to him so quickly wiped her hands and moved over to sit next to him.

"What about?" she asked softly, resting one hand on his arm.

"I... uh well... I'm sorta..." He sighed and blurted it out quickly. "MumI'mgay."

"Well of course you are," Barbara said with relief. "I thought it was something serious."

"But... You're not mad? I mean, I've read the Bible, I know what it says-"

"'Taire, the Bible was written in a completely different time," his mother interrupted. "If people cannot move past a two thousand year old attitude to love then that is their problem." She fixed him with a beady eye. "So when do I get to meet him?"

"Soon?" Grantaire offered weakly, struggling to believe that after all his worrying, his mother had taken the news so well. "What a minute, 'of course you are'? You mean you knew?"

"I'm your mother dear, of course I knew. It's called intuition. Now what's he called and how long have you been together?"

"Derek. He's from Ireland, Courf introduced us. We've been dating a couple of months now."

"Well, I expect to meet him very soon," Barbara told him, kissing Grantaire's forehead as she stood. "But a piece of advice - maybe don't tell your father just yet. You know what he can like. He may not take it quite so well."

* * *

Grantaire rocked his hips up to meet his boyfriend's as Anthony thrust into him, letting his head fall back against the sofa arm and a low moan escape his lips when Anthony hit the right spot inside him. "Fuck, right there, yes, again!" he gasped, nails digging into the other boy's back.

"What the fuck?!"

Grantaire turned bright red when he realised his father had just entered the house, his boyfriend giving an embarrassed yelp and pulling out quickly. Grabbing the cushions they'd knocked to the floor earlier, Grantaire threw one at Anthony as he covered himself with the other. Timothy Wise had covered his eyes as he span to face the open doorway, almost as red as his son, and he hesitated before deciding he was probably safest not turning around.

"Are you decent yet?" he growled, hearing the scuffling behind him as Anthony and Grantaire scrabbled around for their clothes.

"Yeah," Grantaire muttered sheepishly, not meeting his father's eyes as he turned round again, raising one eyebrow at them both. "Uh, dad, this is Tony. My boyfriend."

"Get out," Tim said instantly, eyes not even moving from Grantaire to the other boy.

"Um, okay." Anthony was grateful to be able to escape. "I'll text you later 'Taire." Pushing past Tim he practically ran from the house. Grantaire gave his father a worried look, rather surprised when he realised Tim was almost completely sober for once.

"So you're gay," Tim said bluntly, unable to meet his son's eyes either.

"Yeah, I'd say that's kind of obvious."

"You also have a bedroom."

"It's, uh, kinda full of art stuff. I was sorting my college projects, the bed's covered in them."

"So you decided having sex on our sofa was a good idea."

"Mum's away for the weekend and you were meant to be at work!" Grantaire protested. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come walking in. Besides, I'm seventeen. I'm legal, we both are."

Tim studied him for a few minutes, silence falling between them like a heavy blanket.

"I thought you were interested in that girl across the road," he said finally. Grantaire simply shrugged.

"Obviously not," he replied.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So you have a boyfriend. Does your mother know?"

"Yeah, she's met him. Couple of weeks ago." Grantaire's father made a mental note to have a word with his wife about that.

"If things don't work out with this one, then next time I want to meet him sooner, understood?" Tim told him gruffly. "Look, I only came home for my wallet so I have to go back to work. Oh, and no more sex on our sofa. I mean it."

Grantaire smiled with relief that his father wasn't mad or disgusted, Tim giving him a small smile in return.

"It's a deal dad."

* * *

"So what's new with you?" Barbara asked as Grantaire transferred the phone to his other hand, freeing up his left to play with Enjolras's hair as his boyfriend walked into the room and flopped down on the floor in front of the sofa, resting his head back against Grantaire's knee as he started reading.

"Oh, you know, nothing much," Grantaire said nonchalently, making Enjolras smirk. The blonde knew Grantaire only ever used that tone when he was talking to his mother.

"Something big then," Barbara replied instantly, knowing when her son was lying. "University, work or personal?"

"Personal."

"Do I have to keep guessing or are you going to just tell me?"

"I have a new boyfriend," Grantaire said finally, rather reluctantly. "I'm dating Enjolras. My friend, you remember him?"

"Oh, the blonde who used to get into those political debates with Mothy? The one you've been in love with since first meeting him?" Grantaire couldn't help but blush.

"Yeah, him. It's been just over a month now."

"What are your plans for Christmas?" she asked then, surprising Grantaire with the sudden subject change. He'd been expecting a lot more questions from his mother.

"Um, as of yet nothing."

"In which case, you're coming to see me. Both of you are."

Grantaire sighed. "One moment." Covering the mouthpiece he looked down at his boyfriend. "Are you going home for Christmas?" Enjolras laughed and shook his head. "Want to go to Liverpool?" Enjolras quirked one eyebrow up at him.

"I take it your mother just invited us. Go on then."

"We'll be there," Grantaire promised Barbara before hanging up and twisting another strand of Enjolras's curls round his finger. "You do realise we're going to get the Spanish inquisition," he warned.

"No we won't," Enjolras replied, dropping his book to turn and face Grantaire, sliding his hands up the brunette's thighs gently, making his breath hitch before he managed to speak again, trying to keep his voice unaffected.

"Oh really? And you know that how exactly?"

Enjolras leant in close before whispering his answer.

"Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

Their laughter rang through the house, making a nice change to the arguments that so often took their place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ended up an awful lot longer than expected, and also including stuff about Grantaire's past which hadn't been planned but seemed to just appear on the screen as I typed. Ah well.
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Enjoy!

"Grantaire!"

Grataire had barely had time to knock when the front door had been opened and he'd been swept into his mother's arms.

"Oh 'Taire, it's good to see you again! You never come home anymore, I've missed you! How is everyone? How's Courfeyrac? And university? How's the course doing? Decided on a dissertation subject yet?"

"Woah woah woah, hold on there ma," Grantaire laughed, hugging Barbara back. "Everyone is fine, and I'm doing fine on my course. The dissertation is on Greek and Roman sculpture and art, and its effect on the artwork that followed." Courfeyrac had smirked knowingly when Grantaire had first mentioned the subject, all of their friends' eyes flickering straight to Enjolras then back again, before the oblivious Enjolras could realise why.

Barbara simply smiled at her son as she stepped back, saying nothing but knowing exactly why he had chosen that.

"You'll have to show me some of it," she told him, before looking round Grantaire to smile at Enjolras.

Enjolras was standing nervously behind his boyfriend, jiggling his foot as he waited. It was hardly the  first time he'd met Barbara, she'd been down to visit her son the previous Christmas, but it was the first time he'd met her as Grantaire's boyfriend.

"Hello Mrs Wise," he said with a small smile, offering his hand. It was instantly ignored as Barbara threw her arms around him in a hug as tight as the one she'd given her son.

"How many times must I tell you Enjolras, call me Barbara! I'm glad you could come," she said warmly. "Now come on, inside, the both of you, before we all catch our death of cold standing out here. I'll get you both a warm drink of some sort, and you can tell me what I've missed these past few months. I'm looking forward to getting to know you a little better Enjolras, though Grantaire has told me plenty already." And ushering them both inside, she shut the door behind them.

* * *

For the first time in twenty years, Enjolras enjoyed a family Christmas. Barbara refused to let him or Grantaire do anything, forcing them to sit and relax while she bustled around them, cooking and baking enough food for twenty instead of just the three of them for their Christmas dinner.

After they'd eaten they exchanged presents, Enjolras protesting the presents Barbara had bought for him but she refused to take them back. He was thankful he'd bought her a beautiful jewellery set, originally intended to try and make a good impression, as it saved him from what he'd been brought up to think of as an embarrassing problem - buying someone a present that was obvious cost less than what they'd bought you.

Grantaire and Enjolras had spent most of the day curled up on the sofa together, simply enjoying the chance to quietly spend the day with the person they loved (even though Enjolras hadn't admitted that yet, not even fully to himself), and so it was almost eight before Enjolras got the chance to talk to Barbara in private.

Grantaire had curled himself around Enjolras again when the TV had been turned on for that evening's Doctor Who, tiredly kissing at Enjolras's neck when Barbara left the room to make them hot chocolates at the end.

"Love you," he mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of Enjolras's neck.

"Mmm," Enjolras hummed in reply, twisting his head and just about managing to touch his lips to Grantaire's hair. "I'm glad I came. I like your mother."

"I haven't met yours yet."

"One day," Enjolras promised unthinkingly. "One day."

With Enjolras's promise ringing in his ears, Grantaire let himself drift off to sleep, Enjolras stroking his hair lightly as he did so.

"You love him don't you," Barbara said to Enjolras as she walked back into the room, handing him a mug.

"I... I guess I do," Enjolras admitted with a small smile. "I have no idea when that happened, but yeah." He laughed quietly. "That is the first time I have ever said that about anyone."

Well that is good to hear," she smiled.

"Thank you for the drink," he said quickly when she paused, remembering his manners.

"Enjolras, my son has been in love with you since the moment he saw you," Barbara continued seriously, as if he hadn't spoken. "And Grantaire is all I have left in this world. Please, don't hurt him."

"Trust me when I say I have no intentions to," Enjolras replied just as seriously. "This is my first relationship, Mrs Wis- Sorry, Barbara," he corrected quickly. "I haven't been out with anyone before because I didn't see the point in it. The only reason I am now dating your son is this: I care for him. A lot. More than he knows if I'm honest. So please, believe me here. Hurting Grantaire is the last thing on my mind."

"Good." Leaning back in her chair, Barbara took a sip of her drink and smiled at him again. "You know what, Mothy would have liked you. He always was interested in politics, as you no doubt noticed when you met him those few times, and when sober he used to say that he wished Grantaire would settle down with someone and actually try and make a relationship work, instead of just giving up after a few weeks."

"So he was okay with Grantaire being gay?" Enjolras asked quietly.

"Mostly, yes. It came as a shock to him, but he only ever said something about it when he'd had too much to drink - more than his usual too much that is. He never remembered it thank god, though I daresay Grantaire does and always will. But Mothy... Tim loved Grantaire a lot. If he ever remembered what he'd said and called him, I think... he would have been torn apart, and then he would have drunk even more, and things would have spiralled out of control a lot sooner than they did."

"So Grantaire "inherited" his drinking, so to speak," Enjolras correctly assumed. Barbara nodded. "Do you think we can help him stop?"

"If anyone can, it's you," she told him. "I've never seen him like this with anyone." She paused and considered the two men wrapped around each other on the sofa, men she still considered boys. "How are your parents with it all? Because you've been here three days now, and you've both spoken about your work, your friends, politics, TV, even family of some friends, but you've never once mentioned your own family until tonight, and even then it was Grantaire brought it up."

"They don't know," Enjolras confessed finally, not meeting her eyes but instead staring out of the dark window. "We don't get along, and so I'm not in close contact with them. Sometimes I'm not in contact at all. That was fine, until now. The problem now is that they don't even know I'm gay, let alone I'm with Grantaire."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"I promised him I would," Enjolras said simply. "So, even though I may not want to and may regret it, yes."

* * *

When it came time for them to leave, Barbara hugged them both tightly, before holding Grantaire at arm's length.

"Don't you dare stay out of contact for so long again," she warned. "Or I'll just show up one day. And Enjolras, it was a pleasure to meet you properly. Feel free to visit whenever. You're family now after all." Hugging him again, Barbara whispered in his ear, quietly enough that Grantaire couldn't hear her, "And no matter what happens with your parents, you will always have a home here."

"Thank you," he murmured sincerely, kissing her cheek and making her blush slightly.

"Right gentleman you are. See that 'Taire? You need to take some lessons from him on how to treat a lady."

"Show me a lady mum, and I'll treat her like a queen."

"Be off with you now," she laughed, pulling her son in for one last kiss before pointing at the gate. "Or you'll be late."

"I was right," Enjolras said once they were on the train back home, Grantaire's head resting against his shoulder. "I really do like your mother."

"Do I still get to meet yours?"

Enjolras smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, though you have no idea what you're letting yourself in for."

* * *

"Enjolras dear, come on in. It's been too long."

Enjolras relunctantly returned his mother's hug before quickly stepping back and indicating Grantaire, who looked even more nervous than Enjolras had when meeting Barbara.

"Mother, this is Grantaire. Grantaire, my mother, Denise Molloy."

"Pleasure to meet you Mrs Molloy," Grantaire said with a smile, offering a hand which she shook. Enjolras wanted to either wince or hide, the differences between his mother and Grantaire's were so pointed and obvious.

"Annie would take your coats but she's cooking at the minute," Denise said as they headed inside, making Enjolras regret even more his decision to bring Grantaire here. "Enjolras knows where they go though, he always insists on taking his own to the cloakroom anyway for some reason."

"Because having hired help in this day and age is ridiculous," Enjolras retorted, barely able to stop himself from snapping at her. "It's practically archaic mother."

"It's also proper for those with money," a new voice replied, a man who could only by Enjolras's father appearing in a doorway, brandy glass in hand. If Grantaire had ever wondered what Enjolras would look like at fifty, David Molloy was a dark-haired version of it. There were streaks of grey through what had once been jet black hair but they only served to make him look yet more distinguished.

"Still ridiculous," Enjolras grumbled, but he quickly remembered himself. "Father, this is Grantaire. 'Taire, David Molloy."

"Sir," Grantaire said with a smaller smile than he'd greeted Denise with, offering his hand again though. The strong grip it was suddenly encased in was obviously a test, one Grantaire prayed he passed. The appraising look he was given seemed to indicate he had.

"What do you want to drink boys?" David asked, heading back into the room, closely followed by Denise. Enjolras took the opportunity to grab Grantaire's hand and pull his boyfriend to him in a quick kiss before whispering, "Can I apologise for them now?"

"They seem fine," Grantaire assured him. "Relax." And with that he led Enjolras into the sitting room after the blonde's parents.

* * *

"So tell me Grantaire, what are you studying at university?" David asked after they'd been served the main course, Grantaire winking at Annie as she served him and making the poor girl blush slighly. Enjolras had rolled his eyes and muttered a quick 'Behave' at his boyfriend, but now he frowned slightly when he heard his father's question.

"Fine Art and History of Art," Grantaire replied.

"And where exactly do you plan to take that?"

"I haven't quite decided yet," Grantaire said patiently, "but according to my lecturer I should have plenty of avenues open to me. She seems to think my work is good enough to get me a job somewhere in the art world."

"Fine Art isn't a real course," David huffed.

"Father!" Enjolras snapped.

"Well it's not! You should be studying something that will actually be useful in later life, something that can get you a real job."

"In case you'd forgotten, my cousin has a degree in Fine Art," Enjolras pointed out coldly.

"Well Melonie never did have much sense."

"She's never been without work though."

"Sure, designing supermarkets. What kind of a job is that?"

"One which will always be needed in this country."

Unable to argue with that, David simply ignored his son and turned back to Grantaire.

"So, you're an artist. Please tell me you don't do this awful modern thing people like to pretend is art."

"No, I paint in a classical style normally," Grantaire explained, trying his best not to feel insulted. "Though I am a big fan of the gothic era as well, and am trying to fit that into more of my works."

"I'd be interested in seeing some one day," Denise interrupted, speaking at dinner for the first time.

"I could bring some," he offered instantly. Enjolras almost groaned as Grantaire started sorting details for a second visit with his mother.

"How's work father?" he asked quickly, desperate to interrupt before anything slipped out in their conversation. He pretended to listen as David set off talking about his boring job in the bank.

"How long have you known my son?" David asked Grantaire suddenly, swapping conversation topics as if they weren't miles apart.

"Um, dunno, about two years I guess," Grantaire shrugged. "Maybe just over. I met him because my best friend became good friends with Combeferre. When Enjolras started at university, we both ended up in the same group of friends because of those two." He smiled slightly. "We didn't always get along great but, well, things are good now so who cares."

"Things are good? That's a strange way to say that you're friends now," David frowned. "In fact that sounds suspiciously lik-"

"Father!" Enjolras protested. "Why all the questions?"

"Enjolras?" Grantaire asked quietly, looking over at his boyfriend. He was working his way back through the afternoon and it was only now occuring to him that Enjolras had never once mentioned Grantaire as his boyfriend, or kissed him in public, or indeed shown any affection other than that you'd show to a friend. Enjolras refused to look at Grantaire, instead picking up his glass and taking a large gulp of wine before breathing deeply and looking up at his parents.

"Mother, father, there's something I didn't tell you," he sighed. "Grantaire is... Well, we're dating. Have been for a few months now. So yeah. He's my boyfriend."

"Enjolras Molloy! My office, now! No buts." If looks could kill, David's would have murdered Grantaire within milliseconds.

Slowly Enjolras dragged himself to his feet as David stormed from the room. Bending slightly, he kissed Grantaire's hair, wincing when the artist shied away slightly.

"I'll explain later," he whispered, trying to convey the most sincere apology he could using only his eyes before following his father out and into the study. Denise and Grantaire simply sat there, Enjolras's mother looking shellshocked whilst Grantaire's expression was nothing short of heartbroken.

"What the fuck do you mean he's your boyfriend?!" David exploded the second the door was shut behind them.

"Exactly that!" Enjolras replied, hands automatically balling into fists.

"Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind: it is abomination," David spat out.

"You cannot base modern relationships on what the Bible says!" Enjolras shouted angrily. "It was written in a completely different time, by delusional madmen who were so convinced they were correct and the Romans were wrong they would do anything to try and prove that!"

"It is destestable!" David continued as if his son hadn't spoken.

"How the hell can you even know that's what God thinks?" Enjolras yelled back, his voice escalating as his temper rose and rose, his father's fanatical religious views acting as a red rag to his son. "I mean, Jesus healed the slave of the Roman General even when it was incredibly likely that they were lovers. He cared not that they were gay, he helped them none the less."

"How dare you think you know better than religious leaders? How dare you break the religious laws set down by God?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" Enjolras cried, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. "I love him," he repeated, quieter this time as his voice cracked slightly. "Is that really so hard to understand? I brought him here to introduce him to you, not because I care what you think but because Grantaire is important to me. It was important to him that I met his mother and that she liked me, so obviously he had to meet you. No other reason. So if that's all, we'll be leaving now. You'll never have to see me again." He stepped back, hesitating in the doorway. "Good day father." And with that, he turned and left.

* * *

Back in the dining room, silence had fallen the second the two men left the room. It stayed that way for several minutes until Denise finally looked over at Grantaire and asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What do you mean?" Grantaire demanded. "Am I sure dating Enjolras is a good idea?" She nodded. "Yes," he replied instantly. "He makes stupid decisions sometimes, but I can combat that easily enough. He's an idiot, yes, but I love him and that's enough for me."

"It's against God though."

"Is it really? Because my mum's pretty religious and she didn't seem to give a damn when she found out I was gay. Honestly, I highly doubt God gives enough of a shit about me to care who I love and have sex with, that's if he exists in the first place, which I again highly doubt."

"It's not natural," she argued.  "Surely that is obvious from the fact the pair of you would never be able to have children."

"But it is natural, because if it wasn't then I wouldn't be so attracted to him, I wouldn't love him. You can believe what you like, but I know how I feel, and that will never change."

In the background they could hear traces of the fight from the room down the hall, the odd word like 'abomination' and 'detestable' sneaking out and making Grantaire want to cringe and comfort Enjolras who was having to stand there and have words like that thrown at him by his own father. All at once Grantaire could remember the times when Tim had had too much to drink, when he'd staggered into the house and lashed out at anyone who came too close or tried to help him, both physically and metaphorically speaking. It was rare Tim drank enough to completely forget himself and turn cruel, but the first time it happened after walking in on Grantaire and Anthony was seared onto Grantaire's memory and Grantaire knew he'd never forget it. It was impossible to forget something like that, the way Tim's face had twisted into a cruel snear as Grantaire tried to help him back to his feet and to his room, the way he had pushed his son away and sent him sprawling and crashing into the table, the way he'd looked when he spat out that he'd 'rather sleep with the rats on the floor than be helped by his poof of a son', that he 'wished he had a real man as a son instead of a fucking nancy', and his cries of how they 'must be the laughing stock of the estate, the family with a faggot for their only child'.

Barbara had burst in then, slapping her husband and yelling angrily at him, starting a shouting match which ended suddenly when Tim passed out and collapsed. But the damage had been done. To a boy only a few weeks into being seventeen, hearing such words from his father almost tore him apart, and it took weeks of reassurances from Barbara that Tim hadn't meant any of it to give him any confidence back at all. Tim never remembered anything about those nights, but the morning after that first night he saw the bruises from where Grantaire had hit the table and tried desperately to apologise, for words and actions he knew nothing about.

It was because of these nights that Grantaire first started drinking, to try and forget whatever his father said, and to try and help himself believe something he knew deep inside but sometimes struggled to remember - that it wasn't really his father saying these things.

Enjolras's words broke into Grantaire's musings then.

"BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" both Grantaire and Denise heard, and as one their heads snapped to face towards the office. Denise sighed, clearly wishing her son hadn't said that. Grantaire simply gaped, never once having believed that Enjolras actually fully reciprocated his feelings.

"Grantaire, we're leaving," Enjolras said shortly as he stormed out of the office and down the hallway back into the dining room. "I refuse to stay here any longer." Grantaire quickly scrambled to his feet, holding out his hand to Enjolras, a hand the blonde gladly took with a small tired smile.

"If you leave this house now, you'll not be welcome back," David warned.

"That was the plan," Enjolras replied coldly, before turning and walking out with Grantaire, leaving one parent standing in the doorway and another still sat at the table.

"We have a lot of talking to do," Grantaire warned as they collected their coats.

"We have a long drive back," Enjolras replied, glancing over with the apology still written all over his face.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell them sooner?" Grantaire demanded as soon as Enjolras had reached the main road. The blonde kept his eyes fixed on the road as he drove, though his voice shook slightly as he spoke.

"Because I knew how they would react," Enjolras replied, voice softening the further away from his parent's house they got. "Hence why I never even told them I was gay. Well, not that I've known for that long. 'Ferre knew, but I didn't realise till I met you."

"Why haven't you said that before?" Grantaire asked more quietly, eyes boring into the side of Enjolras's head as he waited for a reply.

"Because I was scared to," Enjolras said simply, hand moving from the gear stick to rest on Grantaire's knee lightly though his eyes never left the road. "It's true though. I do love you. If I didn't, you would never have had to go through that." He glanced over then quickly. "Most people know nothing about my parents and I like to keep it that way. My father is a rich religious nutjob and my mother isn't much better. Both believe it's their way or the highway, and I most definitely took the highway. One day they may actually accept that. I ostracised myself from that family when I was ten. Since moving to university, I haven't been back at all. Meeting your mother made me realise that you deserved to meet my family, even if they are homophobic assholes."

"You should still have said it to me first," Grantaire grumbled, though he was too busy jumping up and down for joy inside his head to really care. "Not to your dick of a father, no offence meant."

"None taken, and I didn't actually tell him first. That may have been your mother." Enjolras gave a small shrug. "Well, she kind of guessed actually."

"Of course she did," Grantaire smiled. "She knew I was gay without me saying a word, though my dad never worked it out until he walked in on me."

"I've heard the story from Courfeyrac." Enjolras glanced over again. "'Taire, what did your father think about it all? Because from what I've heard from Courfeyrac and your mother, it sounds as if he didn't always approve."

"He got drunk a lot," Grantaire said as nonchalontly as he could manage. "And sometimes he got drunker than normal. On those occasions he said and did things he didn't mean and never remembered, so we never told him. When sober, or ever slightly drunk, he was fine with it all. When truly drunk..." Grantaire sighed, resting his head against the passenger window as he stared out into the dark. "When truly drunk he'd say things aimed to hurt, things that were probably on a par if not worse and more cutting than anything your father could throw at you."

"All my father does is quote his fucking Bible," Enjolras muttered, risking yet another glance. "But Tim never really meant what he said right?"

"He only ever meant what he said when sober," Grantaire said firmly. "I guess that's where we differ."

"Why do you drink so much then? If that were my father, I'd avoid drink like the plague to try and avoid ending up like that myself."

"Because the alcohol numbs you to the pain of it," Grantaire explained. "And helps you forget. Although, I'm not sure I ever want to forget a thing about us."

"Then quit," Enjolras suggested firmly, it sounding more to Grantaire like an order.

"Well at least we've both done the "meet the parents" thing now," Grantaire said quickly, changing the subject and making Enjolras want to roll his eyes. "I guess that definitely makes this thing serious."

"I guess so," Enjolras said with a smile, the first smile all evening to be truly happy.


End file.
